Insane, Immense, Inhumane
by Joanne Amelia
Summary: From Jane's final moments as a human, to her first glimpses of life through the eyes of a vampire.


**I will take this opportunity to thank twilightsaga [dot] wikia [dot] com, for without it, this One shot would not exist. :D**

**Thank you as well to TTCyclone, who requested this One shot as my 120th reviewer on The Warmth Of A Cold Heart. And thank you for being my reader, btw! :)**

**A heads up: The first half of this story is Jane as a human, the later half is her as a newborn vampire.  
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**And thanks as well to YOU, yes YOU, for taking time to read yet another one of my stories. :) I hope you enjoy. Don't forget to review! ;)**

* * *

It was 1346 AD. She was sixteen years old. Dressed in white garments and sobbing uncontrollably, she stood tied to a stake, frightened.

Her family had been suspected of witchcraft and her parents were burned to death at the stake just yesterday.

Now it was her turn.

She looked up at the crowd who was going to watch her burn to death. She had the strong urge to shout at them, to scream at them. She thought, they will get what they deserve one day. Their day will come as well.

She hadn't noticed it, but the straws at their feet were already burning. Fire was creeping, and she let out a deranged whimper. She tried to move away, but she was tied to close. More tears came.

She hadn't been expecting it, but she suddenly felt the horrible burning feeling on her skin, as the flames licked her. She screamed in pain as the fire mercilessly devoured her.

And then he came.

She didn't know how he did it because he was so fast. He had put the flames out. As the crowd backed away, he did not hesitate in slaughtering everyone in his sight. He had massacred the whole village, and spared no one but her.

Their eyes met.

She did not even notice the pain the burns had left her, because she was so amazed and drawn to this… this man. If he even was a man.

He had jet black, shoulder length hair and his eyes were a scary, milky red. His skin was pale, almost translucent and he had this immense, inhumane beauty.

He untied her from the stake.

"My name is Aro," he said. Even his voice drew her in.

As the sun peeped out of the clouds, Aro's skin sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight. She gasped lightly, astounded. She had never seen anything like him.

"Come with me," said Aro. "Be one of us."

She felt so light in his presence. Was it love? She wasn't sure. Infatuation, maybe.

Aro smiled and cocked his head slightly to one side. He put a hand under her chin and stared at her as if he was examining her. "We have been watching you for a very long time, Jane."

"How do you know my name?" Jane managed to ask.

Aro didn't answer her question but merely repeated, "Be one of us. Come with me."

Aro took her hand and gently pulled her, but Jane went nowhere. Aro seemed disappointed. "If this is what you decide," he said somewhat bitterly, "A shame. You would have been such a promising prospective talent… Dear One."

Aro turned to leave.

"Wait!" Jane called after him. He stopped, but didn't turn. "I will join you," she hurriedly said. Jane knew it was what Aro wanted to hear.

And then, as quick as lighting, Aro was in front of her. "This is your decision?" He asked her.

"Yes," she confirmed. Jane and Aro both knew it was what she would say.

"This may hurt… just a little," Aro whispered. He cupped her face and brought his lips to her neck as if he was about to kiss her. He drew closer, until Jane felt his marble-hard, stone-cold lips touch her skin.

Then there was the excruciating pain… followed by darkness.

* * *

Jane opened her eyes from what seemed like a deep sleep. She realized she was in a chamber so elegant and beautiful. Like she was in a castle.

She sat up on the bed. Strangely, she felt there was something insanely different about her.

"I have a gift for you," came a voice from the corner. Jane instantly looked to the side of the room. It was Aro. She was relieved to see him once more.

He snapped his fingers and two guards came in the room, dragging a man with them.

Jane felt sudden rage. She knew that man. He was the one who suspected her of witchcraft. He was the reason she was as the stake yesterday… and the flames eating her up like it was wildfire.

She stood up, her eyes bloodshot and her expression cold.

"You," she said. She was surprised at how her voice sounded like. It was silky... just like Aro's.

The man looked up at Jane, panting. He said nothing.

And then Jane smelled it. That scent. She inhaled it, and she realized it was the man. It was his blood. She was smelling his blood. She wanted his blood.

Aro stood up, and went next to Jane. "Do you like it?" he asked her, referring to his 'gift' for her.

Jane didn't take her eyes off him. She let the anger fill her up. And then, out of the blue, the man started to scream in pain. The more Jane let the anger reign, the more the man screamed. The more intently she looked at him, the stronger he writhed in pain.

From the corner of Jane's eye, she spotted Aro watching her, with a pleased expression on his face.

"Extraordinary," she heard him mutter. Jane couldn't help but smile inside. She enjoyed his praise.

"Extraordinary," Aro repeated. The man continued to scream in pain. And Jane realized she was the one causing the pain. Strangely, she enjoyed it, this ability of hers.

She tore her eyes away from the man and looked at Aro. "Do what you want with him," he told her.

Jane lunged and got what she had been thirsting for. The man died instantly. Jane left nothing of him to spare.

After a few moments, Jane spotted a mirror in the room. She saw her reflection and saw her face for the first time since she woke up. There was no denying it. She was beautiful.

So insanely, immensely, inhumanely beautiful, much like Aro. Jane's skin was a pale white and her eyes were astonishingly red. Her face was angelic, and fiercely childlike, but so exquisite that she could make a Botticelli angel look like a gargoyle.

She felt a cold hand on her shoulder.

Aro smiled down at her and she was happy in his presence. He was her master. He smiled wider at her.

"Welome," he said in a gallant voice, "to the Volturi, Dear One."


End file.
